


Let All That Are To Mirth Inclined

by ElGato



Category: Justice League - All Media Types, Wonder Woman (Comics), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Abstinence, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, New Years, One Shot, Religion, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 11:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13247505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElGato/pseuds/ElGato
Summary: Parties, presents, and a partner who has fallen to a life of abstinence marks the end of the year for Diana. She hopes to find the holiday spirit within all of that.





	Let All That Are To Mirth Inclined

“Are you sure the tree looks good over there?” Lois asked, eyes narrowed towards her husband as he had his hands full with a large Christmas tree poised above the floor of their new sizable Metropolis condo, awaiting the go ahead to finally place the tree.

“I don’t know Lois,” Clark said not breaking a sweat in carrying the large fir tree. “I don’t exactly have a good view here.”

Lois waved her hand dismissively, “I’m sure in front of the glass windows is fine. Go ahead and leave it.”

Clark placed the tree down with a grin of relief. As he dusted his sappy and dirty hands on his jeans, he said, “You sure we’ll have enough room for everyone? If we were back at the farm, I wouldn’t be so concerned about hosting the Christmas party.”

Lois had her doubts too, but nevertheless she shook her head, “It would be a nice to double it as a housewarming party for our new condo, but there aren’t many other options. Barry lives in a basement. Diana’s off the grid thanks to her NSA boyfriend. Jessica probably would have a panic attack with so many people in her apartment. And Simon’s Muslim and shouldn’t be forced to hold a Christmas Party. That leaves Bruce who quite immediately gave some excuse that it would be too many people. Nevermind the Wayne mansion has plenty of room, but whatever…”

“This is the price we must pay for being rather functional,” said her husband, a wry grin on his lips. But far be it for him to complain.

Their son Jon bounded in and took one look at the tree, rather shocked at the size of it, “Wow, I think that’s the biggest one we’ve had!”

“That’s right,” Clark’s rich voice rang, pride seeping into his chest. “So finish your homework so we can get to decorating.”

 

\----

 

He knew that smirk, that knowing teasing smirk. One that told a million jokes at someone’s expense.

“What are you so smug about Selina?” Bruce asked across his side of the table as he spooned tomato soup past his lips.

“I am more happy, than smug,” she replied, but her grin didn’t falter as she held up the object of her amusement.

A card. A green and red card. Complete with a Kent family portrait of all three of them in ugly gaudy Christmas sweaters wearing cheesy smiles on their faces. It may or not may have been purposeful.

“We have been invited to a Christmas Party,” Selina said, her keen eyes staring pointedly at her fiance.

“Yes I can see that,” he said in that typical Bruce Wayne despondent fashion. "It's the annual Justice League Christmas Party."

Slapping the invitation down on the table, she called “Alfred, dear! If you can, a pen please, and one of Bruce’s seals.”

Selina glanced over her shoulder back at Bruce, “I’m RSVPing.”

“Without my consent?”

Her look of mocking amusement changed to sultry. “It's almost like you're embarrassed to have me go.”

A clatter rang out in the dining hall, as Bruce dropped his spoon in exasperation. "I am not embarrassed to have you go anywhere."

"Bruce, it's alright. I mean I would be embarrassed by me if it was a party full of goody-goodies chock full of Justice and Law." She flipped the RSVP card back to the grinning Kent family. "That said, this Kent family, I'd like to have a date with them again. And if Diana is bringing her boy..."

Selina let out a sound that was almost akin to a purr, but Bruce had a tough time determining what that purr meant. His fiancee's grin grew wider at his confused glance. And he could only watch as she took the offered pen from Alfred to confirm their attendance to the party.

 

\---

“Steve? Steven?” her voice called as she entered her home.

“Right in here, Diana,” Wonder Woman heard his voice come from her bedroom.

There in the middle of the floor, among wrapping paper and tape, was her lover, carefully folding a corner of green gift wrap over the top of a box shaped present, and taping it securely.

“Finishing up some gift wrapping?” she asked playfully, settling on the floor beside him, moving empty cardboard tubes out of the way.

He nodded, tearing off another piece of tape with his teeth, “These are for Allison and Ian, and Maya. I won’t get to see my niece and nephew this year since they are visiting their father’s for Christmas, so I’d thought I send them their gifts early.”

“I’m sorry,” Diana replied softly. “I know how much seeing them means to you.”

Steve scratched the back of his head with mild agitation over that disappointment. He already felt more absent from their lives than he used to be, so Christmas was the one time of year he could count on seeing them again. But, Tracy, although she agreed with Steve, asked him not to be selfish, and that they should still see their otherwise absentee dad every once in a while. “Eh, they should see their dad. It would be selfish of me to say otherwise.”

“I have news that might cheer you up.”

“Oh?”

“I was invited to the Annual Justice League Christmas party at the Kents this year. Loved ones are welcome too so I’d thought to bring you,” she stared at him expectantly, trying to hide her trepidation. She hadn’t invited him to any of the many Justice League gatherings and she herself couldn’t explain why. People asked her, but she never brought it up with Steve. Granted, he was usually on call for many of those occasions, but it left a twinge of guilt that he may or may not assume that he embarrassed her. Which wasn’t the case.

Slowly, his look of quiet curiosity fell into a frown as he hesitated.

“What?”

“I don’t think I’d fit well there.” He expected her look of rejection at the idea, but he knew it was true. His involvement with Waller and all things government didn’t make him the biggest buddy-buddy entity among League members. You don’t willingly invite the narc to a rave party.

“No one’s going to be worried about you unless you walk in there taking in-depth notes on all activity,” she assured. “Please, Steve. I’m not one to worry if I show up without a date or not, but we haven’t really spent the holidays together before.”

Diana propped herself up on her knees and leaned into him, hand splayed on his shoulder, “Come on, Simon will be there. You like Simon, remember? As well as Victor. Clark and Lois would like to see you again.”

“My presence would just make everyone else awkward,” he turned back to his gift wrapping, tying a bow to be precise, trying not to react as she leaned her weight into him, breath washing over the side of his face.

“I’d love a chance to show you off,” she whispered huskily in his ear, before gently teething the lobe of his ear. He played along for just a split second, before he shifts away.

“About that, Angel,” he said gently, a soft look of guilt on his face. “I’m going to hold off an  _ that _ activity until Christmas.”

Diana pulled away, eyes flashing with mild agitation, “So you’re going to leave me alone for the party,  _ and  _ not put out? Boy Steve, you drive a hard bargain.”

At that, Steve rubbed his hand over his whiskers, which had grown long and thick since he started growing it out in November. He was being difficult. Not intended to hurt her by any means, but perhaps he had been short sighted about her feelings during the holidays.

They weren’t used to spending holiday occasions together, whether it be because of work or other obligations so this whole season was a relatively new obstacle.

“I’ll go with you to the party,” he conceded, before he held up a finger to stop her look of victory. “But, you have to come with me to Midnight Mass at my old hometown.”

She crossed her arms, but it was clear spending a Christmas Mass wasn’t the last thing she wanted to do. Just as she was devoted to her beliefs to her gods, she was curious to see how others displayed their belief in theirs. Especially with Steve, who seemed to struggle with the concept historically but recently was doing his best to get back on that track.

“It’s a deal,” she nodded before arching her brow again at another thought. “This new abstinence streak however…”

“Yeah,” he scratched his beard. “It’s er...um...tough to explain. But I’m treating it as a test to myself. See how much I can control myself. And trust me, around you it’s hard.”

The look she gave him, proved to him how hard it could be.

“One of my priests told me that celibacy in many ways can help those learn to love. Both yourself and others. At least that was how he explained vows of chastity. The irony is, Catholics have a pretty bad reputation of being rather prolific in reproduction.”

He shrugged and continued. “This whole year I’ve been trying to find ways to make myself a better man. I’m not sure how to go about it, but perhaps being a better man of...faith is a good start.”

His explanation, while noble, didn’t amuse her. Diana knew that this wasn’t supposed to be a punishment towards anyone but himself, but it’s not like she wouldn’t be affected too.

“I can tell by the look on your face that you are particularly thrilled,” he said sarcastically, noting the obvious furrow in her brow that betrayed her mild disapproval.

“I never will understand your practices, Steve, but I can relate to adhering to religious traditions and trials. If you believe this test will help you focus yourself, then by all means I cannot tell you what you should do. However, I don’t think you have a problem with self control with... _ that. _ ”

“It’s not just  _ that. _ It’s drinking, swearing, you name a I vice, I’ll try to cut it down.”

Diana worked her mouth as she evaluated him, pondering, “Well...provided that this newfound avenue of self restraint when it comes to  _ that _ is temporary...”

He threw back his head as he laughed. “Diana, if I wanted to be all buttoned up and wear a collar I would not be furthering my relationship with you, I assure you. This is temporary. Just an observance of sacrifices made, is all. Trust me I’m not doing it that well because I’m only trying to make it two weeks. On Christmas Day it’s back to...you know...”

“Rousing renditions of Nympho and Satyr?” she offered.

“Yeah, sure, let’s go with that.”

 

\-----

Steve was doing as expected, which was remarkably well. And Diana behaved herself. Though that didn’t stop her imagination to think up of how he would react if she were to tease him enough.

Regardless, concerns of keeping himself in check gave way to a great social fear. A party with the Justice League. He didn’t know if he should be worried or honored. Either way, as they drove to Metropolis, Steve’s paranoia over the whole thing was bubbling to the surface.

“You may have to rescue me from Lois. I just know she’ll try to rip something out of me.”

“She will not,” Diana groaned, exasperated. He was putting  _ her _ on edge. “She knows not to push you.”

Him zeroing on Lois Lane was a projection of his profound ambivalence towards being with Diana publicly in front of the Justice League. Partly because he knew they were exceedingly protective of her, more so than he was. And he had that itch in the back of his mind that they thought him wholly unworthy.

Despite her assurances that she did not, in fact, see Steve as an unworthy partner and neither did they, Steve couldn’t help but shake that thought. It was largely because of that goddamned insecurity that would crop up every time the Justice League got caught up in their lives. They were superior beings in ability, regard, and personality, and Diana’s own history with a few of them (Superman thus far being the only confirmed relationship she has had with one of them, and Steve had a horrible suspicion that she and Batman shared a bed once or twice) made it easy to shatter his normally self assured state of mind.

He was silent as they walked into the lobby of the condo and entered the elevator. He shrugged his shoulders in his suit for the fiftieth time that night, looking very uncomfortable. Her elegant hand brushed his shoulder as she scolded, “Fidgeting will make it worse.”

“I can’t help it,” he replied rigidly. “I’ve never been good in suits.”

“Oh but you look so good in them,” she said slyly, though the compliment was true.

“I prefer my military uniform.”

“I can relate to that. And, you do look dashing in your ceremonial uniform I must say, but I hardly think a Christmas Party is the venue to start looking like you just got out of Arlington.”

She was right. Walking into a casual yet refined engagement while wearing formal military garb would probably distress members of the League so used to combating restrictive authority of the government.

They found the door to the Kent’s condo, hearing the loud noise of a party in full swing. Before they rang the bell, Diana took one last glance at her partner.

“Ready?”

“No.”

Diana rang the bell anyway.

Moments later, Lois answered the door wearing a simple evening dress, a wide beaming smile on her face. “Come on in you two! Great to see you could make it.”

Steve followed Diana over the threshold and took a wary glance around to see who all was there. Clark was behind the kitchenette, busying himself finishing the last of the pigs-in-a-blanket, who only glanced up to flash them a smile and greet them with his comforting booming voice. Mera and Arthur were by the fireplace, chatting with Bruce and…

Oh boy, Selina Kyle.

Steve adjusted his collar at the memory of his time with her on the JLA. A prayer died in his throat.

“EYY! STEVE!” Simon was in the corner with Jessica Cruz, raising his beer bottle. “Great to see you bud!”

“Good to see you too Simon,” Steve called back feeling a tad bit of surreality that two of his former team members were here. At the very least, he and Simon got a long and had a lot in common. Him and Selina Kyle however...he wasn't sure. The woman confused him. And not in the endearing way like with Diana.

Lois in the meantime was pointing to where everything was; bathroom down the hall, food on the kitchenette, punch by the tree and beer kept cold outside.

"Help yourselves to anything," she clasped her hands together, looking eager and excited that her new home seemed to be a great accommodation for the Justice League family.

Mera leaned over her husband's wobbling profile and gave an elegant wave to Diana. They both gathered by the large king to hear his tales of the Deep in overthrowing a false king. Aquaman hadn't shut up about it since, but in a way it all but assured he wouldn't take betrayal like that lightly again. "Happy Solstice, Diana."

"As to you."

As Steve feared, Selina gave him a entrancing look with her keen emerald eyes. That smirk. She  _ was _ going to say something. "Well, hello, Steven."

_ Oh don't call me that. Please don't call me that. _

“Hello, to you Ms. Kyle.”

“Ms. Kyle? For not very long I hope,” she made a gesture of running her hand against Bruce’s arm. “And you may call me Selina. Just because we aren’t working together anymore doesn’t mean we should resort back to formalities.”

Her entire manner was patronizing, not that Steve wasn’t used to it, but it just made it harder for Steve to understand any meaning behind what she says.

"Y-yes, well congratulations." Steve said more to Bruce than Selina, "I hope it means happier times to come."

“I should say we have a good start,” Selina offered with a smirk and an oddly adoring gaze at the billionaire standing next to her, who gave her a shy glance, tearing himself away from the story Arthur and Mera were telling about the king’s escape from the Deep.

"Yes," Mera answered for her clearly increasingly intoxicated husband. "Luckily my husband has enough support from kingdoms around the globe that it would be much harder for someone to have to fortitude to try to overthrow Arthur again.”

“Thash righ’” Arthur slurred, while his wife held him up from tottering over with a bemused smile on her face. Arthur clumsily brought his arm around Diana and Mera, announcing, “N’ I have my two favorite royals right here.”

"I believe you are drunk, my love," Mera giggled as she tried to hoist him back up. Bruce led him to the lazyboy so Arthur wouldn’t have to be on such wobbly footing.

Diana, watching Arthur still drunkenly rant about the rebels didn’t notice Steve slip away from the circle until she happened to glance over at the punch bowl to see him pouring himself some fruit juice having light conversation with Jessica Cruz. Throughout the evening she tried to keep track of him, but boy was he proving that he still held on to his minimal spy training. He seemed to slip away and return without her noticing, but Diana was pretty preoccupied with catching up to some long time acquaintances. When she next glanced around to locate her date, Steve was spotted on the couch by the fireplace, talking with Victor and Clark.

Later, after saying goodbye to Barry Allen before he bailed to go to the Christmas party at his office, she lost sight of Steve. For the moment, she decided not to worry about it. As she spoke with Mera and Jessica, she heard him talk with an increasingly drunk Simon Baz near the kitchenette.

“So,” Bruce sat down in the sofa next to her, stirring what looked to be a hot toddy. “What are your plans for Christmas? Still want me to do that yearly Solstice burning?”

Every year, Diana had made it a tradition to celebrate the Solstice with a bonfire, shared with her and one other, usually Batman. Steve always was with his family for Christmas. She was invited to join of course--but Steve’s sister didn’t hold that high of an opinion of her, so she repeatedly declined. A bit hypocritical, she thought idly, that he had much the same assumptions about the League and she still forced him to join her this evening

Bruce Wayne, being a loner, hardly did much with Christmas, so Diana thought it would be nice to do that brief tradition with him. This year, however, things were changing. Hopefully for the better.

“I’m sorry Bruce,” she replied. “I am going to spend Christmas at Steve’s this year. For the first time, in fact.”

He didn’t seem that put out as he sipped his warm beverage, “Just as well, Alfred is insisting that we do a proper Christmas. For Damian and Selina’s benefit of course.”

Diana chuckled mildly, “When was the last time any of us had a ‘proper’ Christmas. There’s always someone out there to ruin the joy.”

“Well,” he replied in that distant but knowledgeable way. “Maybe going away with Trevor will lessen that trend for you. He grew up out in the boonies, correct?”

“A small blue collar town, if that’s what you mean. I asked him to come here with me, and he asked that I join him for Christmas Mass.”

Her friend cleared his throat, “I don’t know the man well, but he doesn’t strike me as the religious type.”

“It’s...a bit complicated. And you should speak to him more often. I think you two have a lot more in common than you might think.”

“I doubt we have as much in common as you think, but you could bring him around more often if you want us to know him better.”

She was saved from responding to that rather loaded statement as Clark strode over to change the song on his tablet, changing from Top 100s to soft American folk.

“Clark…” Bruce rolled his eyes in exasperation at his choice of music.

“What?” the bigger man asked defensively. “I am certainly am not going to put on that 80s glam metal stuff you are so fond of.”

Diana may not have a good grasp of music in Man’s World, but she recognized a Cat Stevens album when she heard it. The rest of the guests didn’t seem to pay much attention to it, delving into their conversations with each other. She glanced around and didn’t find Steve.

The song propelled her to leave Bruce and Clark to their playful bickering to head behind the kitchenette to get another flute of champagne.

Lois came up beside her with one whole wine glass and one broken one. She dropped the shattered pieces in the sink with a frustrated sigh.

“Someone have an accident?” Diana asked casually.

“Arthur just gets a bit rowdy after a glass, apparently,” Lois replied and glanced up at her. “Something the matter?”

“You haven’t happened to see my date perchance?”

“Out on the balcony, probably getting a beer.”

_ I would hope not,  _ Diana thought as she headed outside.

Steve was alone outside, not really paying attention to the keg of beer sitting in the cold. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his gaze up towards the snowy night sky, the darkness quenched by the city lights. It was oddly quiet compared to the roar of the guests inside. She could hear their chatter and the muffled music through the glass balcony doors.

“Steve,” she called and he turned. Diana enthusiastically pointed towards the doors, “Do you hear that? They’re playing that song by Cat Stevens.”

The hazy light from the city made it easy for her to see the smile play at his lips as he gave a nod, “Yes, ‘Don’t be Shy’. Helluva song.”

Diana allowed the silence draw between them momentarily, watching as Steve’s gaze turned briefly back to the heavens.

“That was the first song I heard here in man’s world. You let me listen to it on your phone when I was being detained.”

He let a deflated breath and whispered, “How could I forget?”

Diana grew concerned, thinking idly about what Bruce had said about her not giving Steve many opportunities to get comfortable around her friends, “If you want to go home, we can. I don’t want you to feel out of place.”

His eyebrows drew together in confusion, “No I just wanted some air.”

“Are you sure, because I--”

“Diana! Diana,” he immediately closed the space between them to cup her face, half laughing, his smile beaming, “It’s alright. I promise. I just wanted to take a bit of a break and maybe see the surroundings. That’s all.”

He would never mistake the look of quiet relief on her face. It was much the same look she would give him when she would find him alive and unharmed during massive battles. Some would call it patronizing given the circumstances, but Steve was just glad she cared enough to be concerned.

Their closeness soon turned into him offering his hand to her. She took it, drawing close to him. He wrapped his other arm about her waist, voicelessly inviting her to dance to the slow song. They swayed with the muted sounds of merry from the condo, somehow feeling like the only people in the world this high up above the Metropolis streets. Snow fell quietly around them and the flakes seemed to place themselves perfectly in Diana’s hair and shoulders.

When she stared back into his eyes, he broke the silence, “You know, this used to be my hype song.”

“Hype song?”

“Yeah,” he said distantly, a curl of a smile gracing his lips. “I, um, I was always a bit nervous around you during that first week after you left Themyscira. I played this song on the way to work to tell myself to, you know, talk to you without tripping over my shoelaces so to speak.”

Diana didn’t remember any shoelace tripping when they first met. But she found the image of him listening to this song to inspire him to even speak to her amusing.  She laughed lowly, “I had no idea you were that nervous around me.”

“I was. But Cat Stevens, or Yusuf Islam, or whatever he is nowadays, has a way of explaining to be honest with yourself. It was the only way I thought I could talk to you.”

“A lesson you learned early on,” she teased, an arched brow marking her humor. “I think most would find my company a lot easier if they were just as honest with themselves as with me.”

“No doubt, Angel. I learn a lot from you.”

Steve laced his fingers between hers and began to softly sing along with the song, his voice pleasant and comforting.

“ _... lift your head, and let your feelings out instead _

_ And don't be shy, just let your feeling roll on by _

_ On by, on by, on by, on by…” _

Diana drew herself closer, feeling the warmth and gentleness in his voice and body. Normally she would be impressed with his vocal skills, even if she’s heard him sing before, namely in the shower or the car, never out in front of people, but her thoughts were just on their being.

Eventually, the song ended as softly as it began and in its place was  _ Piano Man  _ by Billy Joel.

Steve smirked, “Ah another good song. But I sadly can’t mimic his voice very well.”

He noted the way she was looking at him, returning his gentle, warm, adoring gaze.

She couldn’t resist leaning over and barely brushing her lips against his, just a graze, nothing tantalizing, but recoiled back when the balcony doors flew open and Simon Baz stumbled out.

The Lantern took one look at them, eyes widening, “Whoa, whoa, sorry, don’t mind me…”

He shuffled towards the keg, “Just getting some beer.”

They watched, Steve embarrassed, Diana amused as Simon filled his glass with cold beer, and scurried back inside. “Alright, carry on guys.”

Both chuckled warmly, and Steve relented, “I suppose we should go back inside before Simon starts issuing rumors of what his drunken eyes saw.”

Diana lifted the hand that was in hers to her lips, touching the chilled knuckles, “I certainly don’t mind if they let their imaginations run wild.”

 

\----

 

On Christmas Eve, Steve drove Diana up the ten hour trip to coastal Maine to his childhood home. She had remarked that flying would be more efficient, but Steve insisted they drive and the reason soon became apparent why.

As they reached New Hampshire and into Maine, everything seemed to doused in white. Passing sprawling farmlands, and into thick forests of pines and dying trees all held together by the beauty that was snow. Despite the dead season, it held a comforting beauty, watching the way snow changed the landscape and the forests, as well as the tiny rural houses that still seemed to be inexplicably bright with their Christmas and New Years’ decorations.

Steve’s hometown was nestled amongst the deepest darkest forest one could imagine in this region, and yet it was surprisingly large and well populated for a place so out of the way and isolated from the rest of the world.

That isolation, Diana could sense. It mirrored her own home. Not an isolation of confinement for most, it was creating a small pleasant place to live in a world full of problems, but Steve apparently wasn’t satisfied by leading a life numb to the outside. Just like her.

It was a realization that was easy to forget sometimes, as Steve seemed to know so much about the world, especially when she first arrived, but one glance at where he grew up, it was clear that their upbringing and respective paths were not that different.

It was a thought that drew her closer to him. But she was also curious as to how Steve managed to shed his naivete, and her guess was that the military offered many wake-up calls to the reality of the world. She had a hard enough time handling it with Steve, Barbara, Etta, and her League friends when she first arrived, who knows how hard it was for him to see reality with no one to explain it to him beyond “this is just how it is”.

To add to the surreality of the place they were entering, she could see the stormy waters of the Atlantic through the still and silent trees. And on the tall cliffs she could see the only structure of the town visibly above the tall trees. St. Columba’s Priory.

Steve’s own childhood home, which he shared ownership of with his sister, was far and away from anything that would resemble a neighborhood. The house itself was on the rocky cliffs that overlooked the Atlantic and had been in his family for more than its fair share of generations.

The house itself wasn’t particularly impressive. It was quaint, and looked pretty standard for a house in the area, but despite that, it was a lovely place, nestled among the trees and overlooking the ocean.

Diana herself only got a passing look at the house when Steve drove her up to show her the place not long after Ares was first defeated, but she was quickly called away to her first Justice League mission.

The interior was very much unique to the Trevor family, tall, tall bookcases filled to every end by all kinds of books of all kinds of subjects. A woven tapestry given to the family several generations ago by a craftsman from the nearby indigenous reservation. Old rifles lining the space above the bay window. A piano in the far corner that looked like it hadn’t been used since the unfortunate demise of the Trevor matriarch nearly two decades prior. It could be described as a typical house interior for the area, but at the same time it wasn’t. Little objects told something just off enough to know that this family set itself apart from the rest.

For a family with such a history in the military, aside from the out of commission vintage guns there was very little that displayed their numerous feats. Instead much of the decoration seemed to place a particular reverence to nature and the family. Pictures of Tracy’s communion, Steve’s time as a choir boy, and various moments of both of them with their mother lined the mantle above the fireplace.

Diana got a particular amount of amusement as she looked through Steve’s photos of his childhood while he placed their things in the master bedroom. His ruddy cheeks, wide smile, with a bit of seriousness etched in the rigid brow of such a young boy, Diana longed to hear the stories behind these photos, especially one where he was holding a frog in his muddy hands, while his mother -- a charming looking woman, with hair the very color of the dandelions in the same photo -- was wiping his dirty empty hand, laughing at her son’s messy curiosity.

“Were you as innocent as your photos depict you as?” she called so he could hear her in the master bedroom.

“Tough to say. I did kid things. But I don’t remember trying to get into trouble out of viciousness, unless it was picking on my sister. Just stupidity.”

She heard him enter the living room behind her. He made a move to light the fireplace.

The matchsticks seemed to be too old to hold a strong enough spark, but with Diana’s help and using the discarded matchsticks they were able able to start a small fire until the gas from the fireplace did the rest of the work. Once the room was sufficiently heated, Steve made the suggestion that they open gifts.  


Diana was a bit confused. "I thought people opened gifts on Christmas Day."

"Since you've been very patient with me, I want to give you your gift early."

“If that is the case, here, open mine first,” Diana, pulled out her gift from the side table where they placed them for the morning and slid the wrapped package across the coffee table.

“You didn’t have to give me anything, you know.”

“Oh I had to,” she shot back adamantly. “That’s how this works does it not?”

He stared at the present and then glanced back at her with a whimsical arc of his brow. A smile playing on his lips, he tore into gift. It was a first edition book about the art of Francis Bacon.

“Wow,” he said, unable to hide his grin. “You do pay attention to what I say.”

“You seemed to find his exhibit I took you to fascinating. And you like to read,” she pointed to the bookcase on the back wall that was probably all books he's read. “So I thought I’d get you this.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking quick glances at a few pages inside, catching the rather dark and violent imagery the artist was known for. “I wont bother with it much today. Not exactly happy images that are appropriate for this holiday.”

“He was a huge masochist,” she commented as he shut the book on one of the artist’s crucifixion studies. She didn’t add the very real comparison of Bacon’s masochism to Steve’s bouts of self-flagellation. Though Bacon’s brutality and darkness surrounding his paintings were largely sexual, Steve’s intermittent self deprecation wasn’t, and not nearly as harmful emotionally or physically.

“Well he sure knows how to make sides of beef look intimidating,” he quipped, crumpling up the wrapping paper and setting it aside as he reached behind him and held out his gift. A small long box, wrapped in red with a gold ribbon.

“I got you this,” he said with an anxious smile as she took it. “Granted, in all honesty, you are a difficult to buy gifts for.”

“I’m not that difficult,” she said dismissively. It was true she would never turn down a gift. But most normal people couldn’t possibly comprehend what sort of gift would please or impress a goddess, a princess from a far off place. Even for those who knew her intimately the pressure was astounding, so sure she was used to heavenly riches from her home.  


The fact was evident in the way Steve hitched his breath as she tore open the paper and slowly opened the lid. He could see her eyebrows rise and a smile play on her lips.

“I really wanted to get you something besides jewelry,” Steve explained. “But I was at a loss this year, and I saw that and thought you’d be interested.”

Inside the box was a golden chain necklace, with a pendant in the shape of an owl at the end of it. Set inside the owl’s chest was an emerald gemstone.

Her thumb ran over the etched texture, “Now I seem to be at a loss of what to say, Steve.”

He didn’t know how to interpret that, “I can...take it back…”

“You will do no such thing,” she stopped him. “I love it. You know how much Athena means to me.”

He set his jaw tight as he swallowed the dryness, relieved at her response, “Me as well.”

Whether Diana was aware or not, Athena was the first god that Steve was aware of that touched him, physically. As an owl that used a phone to tell him where bombs were being placed. Because of that, Athena in particular stuck in Steve’s mind---not matter how much he regarded the other Olympians with the mild disdain that most of more modernly inclined people held towards the that ancient pantheon.

“May I?” he gestured towards the necklace wanting to put it on for her.  


She turned, pulling up her hair, so he could clasp the necklace behind her neck. When it was fastened, he let out a small triumphant, “There.”

He thought he should’ve drawn back, but he lingered, fingers dragging to her shoulders, down her back. And that very act may have been a mistake. Two weeks and he couldn’t so much as touch her in any manner other than casual. It  _ was _ what he wanted. To know that he could hold a brain that was above baser things, but here, now, warm from the romance of the season, he was lost in his own motion, watching the way she react to his touch, sure, accepting, but as soon as his hand reached over to rub her belly and thigh and his lips touched that bronze nape, she jerked just slightly.

“Oh so now you want to put out,” she called in an amused tone. “What happened to self reflections, flagellation, or whatever it is you were holding out on me for?”

“A mistake,” he replied quickly, leaning in to resume his ministrations. She stopped him with a hand on his chest, gently twisting her body away from his grasp, guilt suddenly crossing her mind. At his questioning look, she grew serious, “It’s only a matter of hours until Christmas Day. Don’t quit now. Please.”

“Change of heart?” he asked, failing to hide his disappointment.

“I don’t want to be that temptress that leads men of faith astray,” she replied.

He chuckled and gave a roguish grin, brushing his fingers in an attempt to tempt  _ her  _ into leading him astray, “Why not? I’m the tempter that led you away from your home.”

“This whole tradition clearly means a lot to you, and I don’t want you throw away your virtues just because I teased you about it. You are so close Steve.”

Jaw set, he grasped the hand on his chest, but his eyes shone with gratitude, relief perhaps. “You are right, Angel. Thank you for keeping me on the wagon.”

“Always, Master Chief,” Diana straightened his tie. “We better get going to make your Mass.”

\---

They drove up to St. Columba’s Priory. Nestled in the darkness of the woods, the priory seemed as a rustic citadel, light up with lights on the surrounding giants pines and torches lighting the winding roadway to the Priory.

Inside was completely light by candle light, and filled with people, all quietly trying to find their seats and mingling, greeting each other for the evening. Music played behind a choir of young boys and girls wearing white robes, the voices carrying and having a subtle ring to their tenors that was quite impressive in Diana’s opinion and even reminded her of the beautiful voices of her sisters singing their heartfelt accolades to the gods.  


They shuffled in behind a line of congregants, being greeted by Brothers and Sisters of the priory. She was introduced to the tall mighty head of priory property, a half indigenous man with a thick brown beard named Duncan Swimming Bear, who took her hand and gave her two greetings, “Rath Dé ort. And a Merry Christmas.”

“What a charming cathedral,” Diana commented as Steve led her to a nearby pew, her eyes on the high apses that seemed to cause the beautiful singing from the brothers and sisters to swallow the congregants in a pleasant hum. For someone like Diana, who was in touch with spirituality at a higher level, was nearly overwhelmed by the very power one's voice could reflect one's devotion.  


There were no obligations on this night. People and participants here had a drive to be here on this holy moment.

At midnight, the young choir took their seats and made way for the Brothers and Sisters of the priory, all wearing traditional nun's garbs and robes for the monks. The Brothers wearing white made their procession down the isle, dispersing a cleansing incense through swinging of a ball back and forth, carrying large ceremonial candles, and a crude cross, seemingly made of logs found in the very pines the Priory sat in.

A short older man, whose grey hair was combed back, it's length coming just above his shoulders, strode to the pulpit, wearing simple white robes. The entire congregation went still and silent in his presence.

"That's Brother Idan, the Abbot," Steve whispered to her trying hard not to break the quiet as the Abbot took his stage and cleared his throat.

He spoke gently, his accent laden with rhythmic Irish, with the countenance of one who understood more than what the scripture before him told him. He had a grace and patience that reminded Diana of Castalia at home, that knowing wisdom found in those understood the journey needed to touch a higher power.  


"Let's begin with some moments of peace and silence."

Such silence ensued. Diana herself followed the rest in closing her eyes. She didn't know if she should be praying to her gods, or the god whose house she was in, so instead, she allowed herself to absorb the silence. If the building projected sound, it seemed to only make silence even heavier. A pin dropping would've been a blaring sound in comparison.

"Thank you. We are sincerely blessed to have so many of our friends and family here tonight, included, please we must recognize our brothers, sisters and neighbors," he gestured towards the back, towards a group of people standing next to Brother Duncan, many wearing brightly colored traditional clothing "Our friends from the reservation join us on this day and to help us bring relief to those who cannot afford it."

It was then that she noticed a nun and a monk walking among the pews, holding out baskets for donations. By the time the basket reached their pew, there seemed to already be numerous amount of donations.

"Every year, we help each other to bring goodwill to those less fortunate. In those actions, we celebrate brotherhood and sisterhood that has made our community withstand the test of time. So we thank Tribal Leader Tall Stone and the elders for their sacrifices. God bless be upon them."

"After the service we will be taking volunteers to help take our donations to Portland centers. Already we have many who would share their Christmas with strangers, and that is something we should commend together."

He took a breath and it was then that Diana noticed that the Abbot was not reading from any ledger or script. Or even scripture.

“Today’s thoughts on this day, the anniversary of our Lord’s birth, are about the darkness,” the Abbot stretched out his hand and plucked a candle from its holder on his pulpit. “In this season, we are particularly drawn to the light. We are comforted by it, warmed by it.”

He paced in front of the pews, holding out his candle, active in his explanation. “It is our nature to fear the dark and seek the light.”

He stopped back on his pulpit, and blew out the candle, insignificant to the lighting of the entire area, but the action was felt. “We fear the darkness out there because we cannot see. And what we cannot see, we cannot understand. We fear what we don’t understand.”

“I am here to tell you, what is in that darkness,” Idan pointed out the window. “Creatures and animals, all at rest, huddled away, peace away from the sun’s rather profound light. The darkness, does bring peace, maybe not to our minds, but it is that necessary moment where we can sit, be still, reflect, rest, sleep, remind us what the other side of light is.”

Idan leaned over on his podium and spoke with finality, “And should we fear the dark, we should not forget that it was darkness that welcomed the birth of our Lord into this physical world and allowed his light to shine ever brighter on the world. So let us adore the darkness, as much as we love the light.”

The service continued with hymns spoken in several languages, rarely in English and the Sisters and Brothers of the Priory lend their tuned and heavenly voices to carols and devotionals that gave her chills. All was led by the Abbot's gentle chanting from scripture in either Latin or Old Irish. It was easy to be mesmerized, until he said his thanks and dismissal in English to his congregation, wishing everyone with a broad kind smile, a Merry Christmas.

\---

“Absolutely lovely,” Diana breathed in the truck on the way back to the house. “Such a sound tradition, Midnight Mass. And it was like the whole town was there too.”

Steve shrugged, “They probably were. I would’ve liked to introduce you to Brother Idan in person. I’m sure he’d get a kick out of you. But he’s probably very busy trying to gather all the food and clothing donations to take to the shelters.”

“Maybe we should offer our help,” she replied, her expression set, as if she felt some amount of guilt for not doing her part for the holiday.

“The Priory has a lot of brothers and sisters, plus many volunteers from both the town and our neighbors on the reservation. He has all the help he can ask for,” Steve explained, remembering the one or two times his own mother took him with the brothers and sisters of St. Columba’s to help out at the shelters. It always had an impressive turnout. He would later use that tradition with his military friends to help out at soup kitchens and VA sponsored charities.

As they drove up the county road through the thickening pines, they spotted a pair of flashing lights on the side of the road. A truck was stalled and the driver, a man bundled in a thick winter jacket, a hat, and thick gloves was holding his small flip phone as light to examine his engine.

“Steve,” she called almost immediately. “Pull over.”

“In the charitable mood, I see?” he teased.

“It’s freezing outside. We shouldn’t let him just stand there in the cold.”

Steve agreed. Despite his teasing, the one good thing about his small backwoods hometown was that strangers helping strangers wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. He pulled his truck over to the shoulder and stepped out of his truck. Diana followed suit.

“Hello there!” Steve called optimistically, more of a reflex to get the person in distress to trust him right off the bat. “Having some issues, sir?”

“Yessir,” the man, probably middle aged, said with a thick accent that many in this region seemed to carry. “Just got out of Mass this evenin’. I’m bettin’ the cold froze my oil.”

As Steve and the man spoke, Diana could see two young children, a boy and a girl, huddle in the back window of the truck to get a look at her and Steve. A woman, presumably the man’s wife, was in the front seat, head tilted towards the window to hear what was being discussed.

“You wouldn’t, ah, happin’ to have a chain or cable on your truck, would you? Our home is just up the road over that small hill.”

Steve, normally had a chain on the back of his truck for hauling things, didn’t bring it on this trip. And now he was regretting it. That said, he had an idea, albeit a risky one.

“I don’t sir, I apologize.”

“Eh, it’s alright, we’ll wait for Gus’s tow.”

Steve gave a glance at the woman at his side, the swift look voiceless communicating to her his idea. One look from her also gave him his answer.

“I may have another solution, but I would ask that this be between us.”

The man’s eyes flicked towards Diana, and he gave a knowing smile, “Do not worry, sir. I know who yer are, and so I know who  _ she _ is.”

“Well,” Steve sighed into the air, “So long as we’re in agreement.”

He motioned for the man to get back into his car. As he did so, Diana stepped up to the back bumper of the truck.

“I’ll drive up beside you, Angel. Just let me know if your hands get cold.”

Steve climbed into his truck rolled it up to the other man’s side, instructing it to put the vehicle in neutral. With a wave of his hand, as a signal, Diana braced her feet in the snow and began to push.

There was a ruckus inside the truck as the occupants were a little stunned by the sudden movement, and after the initial excitement faded, the two young children poked their faces through the back window, looking at her in awe.

She smiled to herself as she kept pushing, effortlessly, but the frozen metal on her palms made it a tad more difficult than she would’ve liked.

“Angel,” Steve called through the window of his truck, when they were about a quarter of the way there. “Do you need to take a break.”

“I’m alright, Steve,” she stopped for only a moment to blow on her hands to warm them. “Let me get this up the hill and then I probably need to thaw my fingers.”

That didn't seem to pose a problem, and although it took a few hours out of their evening, they returned the family safely back to their home.

"How did you do that!?" one of the children said in amazement as he climbed down the truck seat with the help of his mother. The mother hushed her child gently and ushered them into their home. 

"Let's get warm, children, you've been out in the cold enough."

"Thank you, Trevor," the man said after he waited for his family to get inside the warmth of his home. "You did not 'ave to do that."

Shaking his head, he replied "We were more than happy to help."

"Well I can't thank you enough. Would you come inside and warm up, yah? Especially thaw those iron fingers of yours."

The man's relieved grin met Diana, waiting for her response. She declined.

"A lovely offer, but I should like to return home to spend some lost time with his gentleman," Diana replied tapping Steve's elbow, and the man's smile grew wider as he understood what she was getting at.

"Well, then don't let me get in the way of _that_ , Wonder Woman. I understand," he opened the door to his home, before calling back with a friendly wave. "Merry Christmas to you both. Peace be upon ya."

As Steve and Diana filed back into their truck, she spotted the two young children huddled around their window, to get one last good luck at the miracle woman before Steve drove them back to the house.

Several moments later, Diana was curled in the arms of her blond lover, on the sheepskin rug lying in front of the fireplace. Steve joked that he went cliche again with the romance, but Diana didn’t much care. Not as he took her gently, the heat from his body and the fire engulfing her on this snowy night, driving the winter dark and cold away.

She was speechless as he was patient in his lovemaking, slow and deliberate, exposing his every emotion in his glassy blue eyes, vulnerable above her. She reached up to cup his neck, gently caressing him, meeting his eyes, soaking in his naked honest love.

She couldn’t resist a tear leaking from the corner of one eye. Steve wiped it away, leaning down to brush his lips against her cheek, whispering words of devotion, telling her in all honesty how she made his heart weep, how she made him feel limp with his overwhelming affection.

Diana whispered his name, more of concern over him exposing his rawness, than in passion. Diana longed to say those same words back to him. To tell him how he made her feel, but she always, always thought her thoughts would come off patronizing, betraying her awareness that he was a mortal man, and she wasn’t. For someone who had so much love to give and so much love that she felt, she struggled to say it plainly.

He didn’t seem to mind. Not at the moment. She kissed him, trying and failing to match his tenderness.

She reserved her tenderness until long after their lovemaking, when she was basking in the dying embers of the fire, arms wrapped around her sleeping lover, a quilt from the sofa covering their lower bodies.

Steve was in a restful sleep. Still, face passive, he was a quiet sleeper and Diana resisted the urge to relight the fireplace to drown the room in warmth again, but she didn’t want to disturb him. Instead, in the growing dark, she mapped his features with her hands, caressing him, stroking his hair, lips whispering against his warm skin, as her other hand delicately fiddled with the necklace he gave her as a gift.

Watching him so at peace was therapeutic as it gave her time to trace the contours of his face with her fingers, over wrinkles and lines, mentally marking what has changed in the years she had known him, before she fell asleep in the growing darkness.  


As Christmas early dawn turned into daybreak, Steve slowly awoke, the sun gleaming off the white blankets of fresh snow spread along the cliffside.  


He glanced over at the woman wrapped around him, one of her impossibly long legs slung possessively over his. He couldn’t resist a chuckle in his chest. In the growing light of the sunrise as it bounced off the white blankets outside, he could plainly see her bronze skin take on a flushed hue, her hair mussed, and her lips still swollen. She looked well-sexed and satisfied.

Maybe too much so, as when he tried to shift away so he could get dressed, she applied her strength to pull him back to her.

“Too cold,” she murmured in her half awake state.

“If you let me go, I can warm the place up,” Steve offered, prying her wrist away from his waist, at which she grumbled. 

“I’m fine with you right here.”

He chuckled, kissing her crown, before removing the quilt and leaving her to the chill. “I thought you didn’t get cold.”

“I do get cold,” she corrected with a frown, pulling the rest of the quilt with her as she sat up, covering her chest not out of modesty, but because of the colder air causing certain parts of her anatomy to be uncomfortably pebbled. That was forgotten as she watched her lover’s naked rear as he strode down the hall into their thus far neglected bedroom to the suitcase for some clothes.

“I suppose you have something you want to do, if you are so willingly leaving my bedside after two weeks of not touching me.”

“Well,” he popped out of the doorway in jeans, sliding a sweater over his body. “I thought I’d take you snowmobiling.”

“Snowmobiling?”

“It’s like a motorcycle for snow. Or rather a motorized sled. I just need to fish mine out from storage and then I can take you on a few pathways. Get a rather unconventional tour of the cliffside.”

“That sounds lovely,” Diana replied picking up their clothes from last night that were strewn over the fur rug, the carpet and on the sofa.

“Then I’m going to make you mom’s Irish stew. We usually have that every year. And then…”

He took hold of her hands in his and kissed the knuckles, “We’ll have a bonfire. Like you do for your sisters.”

“Wow this is the season of giving,” she replied gently, pulling herself closer to her lover, hands wrapped around his waist, “I am glad you would do that for me.”

He flashed a small smile, "Merry Christmas, Diana."  


"And a Merry Christmas to you too, Steve."

She kissed him.

\-----

It wasn’t long until Steve found out he was invited to another League party at Bruce Wayne’s New York headquarters for New Years Eve, complete with a perfect view of Times Square. While he was still not comfortable with public get-togethers with League members, he was a lot less apprehensive about this one.

However, whereas the Christmas Party didn't involve horrible interruptions by those who would ruin the joy, the New Years party was sabotaged by Cobra mutants, complete with a bomb to set off at midnight.

Lois and Alfred did their best to get the guests to safety, while the mutants were distracted by Steve. That wasn’t as intentional as that sounded. Steve being a wily fellow especially when bad guys were involved, incurred a particular wrath from the Cobras, as he was crushed by a mutant and thrown like a rag doll, just in time for Deadshot and Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman stopped the attack from being completed.

No one was killed, thankfully, most had a few scraps and bruises, but it was clear Steve took the brunt of the damage as immediately, Superman and Lois, Batman and Alfred, and Diana surrounded his battered body.

Diana helped him sit up, watching him cringe, and he growled, “Oh those bastards really know how to crash a party.”

Batman lifted Steve’s dinner jacket, and it was as he suspected, a deep purpling around his torso where the giant Cobra mutant’s hand squeezed him.

“You may have to drive us home, Angel," he wheezed, noting the set jaw of the Caped Crusader as he gave a passing glance at the damage.

“I wouldn’t,” Batman warned. “He’s got broken ribs, he needs to be taken to the hospital.”

Diana and Steve exchanged disappointed glances.

“I guess there goes our plans to start the New Year off with a _bang_ ,” Diana murmured casually, their friends jerking where they stood, aghast that their Wonder Woman would openly make such a double entendre.

“I’m sorry, Angel,” Steve apologized. “You’d think I’d learn after the thirtieth time not to goad dangerous monsters.”

A gentle rub of his shoulders told him he was forgiven, “Well, I guess that leaves the original New Years’ tradition.”

“Diana, wh--”

His cry died in his throat as she pulled his collar and gave him a rough kiss--right in front of everyone. Her arms was pressed around his bruise, but that was the least of what was on his mind. He enjoyed it, of course, but feelings conflicted on being intimate right in front of Superman and Batman and...oh boy...even that Damien kid and Jon Kent.

Steve didn’t want to be that guy who got embarrassed at public displays, but it would always be a reservation he had. For a brief moment he thought he could practically hear the thoughts going through everyone’s heads.

_ Of all the people to get to kiss Wonder Woman on New Years, it had to be the one guy who managed to get his ass kicked in all this. _

Whatever they were actually thinking hardly mattered. What did was that Diana had made public her choice, even bolder in front of members of the Justice League. Diana pulled away, and gave him a sparkling smile, “Happy New Year, Steve. Let's get you patched up.”

“Happy New Year, Diana.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from a song by Loreena McKennitt entitled by the same name.
> 
> There are references to the 2017 DC Holiday Special #1 and Rob Williams' Trinity #16.
> 
> This story grew longer and longer as I began to write it, so that's why it's taken up the entire the holiday season to get it even posted. Either way, Happy New Year.


End file.
